A Burglary In Belgravia (The Lady Eleanor Mysteries Book 2)

by Lynda Wilcox

  Why was he there? She remembered his shake of the head as she’d walked to the table. So, he must be working, but who, or what, was his interest?

  She let her gaze slowly travel the room, smiling and nodding when she made eye contact with those she knew, and there were many, before her attention returned to Danvers.

  “Are you here for anyone in particular?” he asked.

  “Yes, you. It was your choice of restaurant, remember. I just wanted to see who was here.”

  “Lord save me from a nosy woman.” He picked up his glass and stared at her over the rim. “You don’t fool me for a minute, you know, but your presence will do my reputation no harm at all. A pity I can’t say the same for yours.”

  Eleanor gulped her wine. “Let me solve this case first,” she said. “Then I can worry about my reputation.”

  Chapter 19

  The private club that Danvers took her to came as something of a surprise to Eleanor. She had expected something seedy, down at heel if not downright dirty, populated by gaunt-faced, hollow-eyed denizens risking everything on the roll of the dice or the turn of a card.

  The Embassy, however, was no gambling den. Tucked away down a side street in Soho, the club was plush to the point of opulence.

  The well-built seats were upholstered in velvet, the carpet deep-piled and the bar, made from highly polished walnut and brass, shone brightly under the glittering light of the chandeliers.

  Eleanor saw many people she knew, peers of the realm and assorted aristocracy, members of Parliament from both sides of the house, and leaders of industry and commerce.

  “Is it always this busy?”

  “Always, my lady. Not that I come here that often, mind, and never in the company of such a beautiful woman.”

  “Less of the flattery, Danny boy. Do I have to buy chips or tokens?” Eleanor glanced around for a cash desk.

  “Yes, you'll get them over here.”

  With Danny to squire her, Eleanor exchanged her money, then went to the bar and bought them both a drink. Despite her claim that morning, she asked for a cocktail.

  “I could have got those,” he protested, as she handed him a single malt whisky.

  “Don’t worry. You can get the next one.”

  He nodded and sipped at his drink. “You don’t gamble then, my lady?”

  “It isn’t one of my vices, no. What about you?”

  “On my salary? Fat chance.”

  “Yet, you know this place and have been here before,” she pointed out.

  “Ah, but on those occasions you might say that I was here on business. It’s surprising where you get to when you’re chasing a story. Besides, you don’t have to gamble while you’re here, though the owners would prefer that you did, naturally enough.”

  They wandered to the blackjack tables and watched the play for a while, but Eleanor’s real interest lay in the players. So far, the person she had hoped to see was not in evidence.

  “Is there another room?”

  “More than one. What takes your fancy? Poker or roulette?”

  Neither. As she had said, Eleanor was not a gambler. She was there on business, trying to prove an outrageous theory and bring a killer to justice. If it took a visit to a gambling club, then so be it. Her only concern was that she didn’t lose too much money.

  “My lady?” Danvers prompted.

  Eleanor thought fast. Her quarry had neither the temperament, nor the face, for poker. “Oh, roulette I think.”

  “This way, then.”

  She followed him across the floor to a door in the wall. He tapped and it opened immediately. A broad shouldered doorman looked them up and down, then stepped back to let them in.

  “That’s odd, isn’t it?” Eleanor whispered. “Why bother with a doorman? All they’re after is your money, so why not let everybody just walk in?”

  Danvers shrugged. “Ours not to reason why, fair lady, but I’ve seen some large sums staked in here. Maybe they want to be sure their clientele has the wherewithal before they're allowed to play.”

  Eleanor nodded as she quickly scanned the room, taking in the people around the two tables, shocked to see some famous faces, and quite a few acquaintances.

  The noise levels were higher here than in the outer room as gamblers clacked their chips down, and the ivory ball rattled around the wheel and landed with a clunk that was greeted by cheers or groans.

  The aroma of cigar smoke, the smell of perfume, the underlying sense of fear mingled with elation, and the buzz of excitement all left Eleanor feeling overwhelmed and longing to be home, in her quiet little flat, with only Tilly and a roaring fire for company.

  At least her journey had not been in vain.

  With a hawk-like gaze fastened on the wheel of the table closest to the door, Barbara Lancashire chewed at her lower lip. Beads of perspiration marked her forehead, her hands clenched and unclenched themselves in a ceaseless rhythm. Oblivious to anything other than that small white ball, she was unaware of Eleanor’s presence or her scrutiny.

  “Found what you were after?”

  Danny Danvers rested his chin on Eleanor’s shoulder. She inclined her head in response to his whisper, then turned away and stood watching the play on the second table.

  Shortly after the war, Eleanor had lived in Paris, and still maintained an apartment there which she visited from time to time. On one occasion she had visited a casino and was instructed in the intricacies of betting in roulette, winning and losing in equal amounts. It had been a fun evening, but not one she had been at pains to repeat, though she was surprised at how much of the actual betting, and the odds, she remembered.

  “Damn it all to hell! I need a drink.”

  A man opposite pushed himself away from the table and strode towards the door. His place was quickly filled by someone else.

  “More money than sense, as my mother would say,” Danvers muttered.

  Eleanor smiled. “My maid says the same thing. She’d be horrified if she knew I was here.”

  “So, are you going to play or aren’t you?”

  “Perhaps. In a moment.”

  She walked to the other table. Barbara Lancashire still had a small amount of chips in front of her, though she appeared undecided where to place them. Eleanor wondered how many she had started with.

  “Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen. Place your bets.”

  At the croupier’s call arms stretched across the table, chips were placed hither and yon along the board, and the tension began to mount.

  Barbara had placed two chips: one on All Red, the other on Black 17. If 17 came up, then she would win a tidy sum, but she wouldn’t get so much from a red number. Hedging her bets, but too bitten by the gambling bug to cash in her chips and go home.

  Eleanor chose a number and put her chips on the table.

  “No more bets, ladies and gentlemen.”

  The croupier spun the wheel and the air around Eleanor seemed to electrify. Then he dropped the ball and the excitement grew as it clattered around past the spinning numbers. Time slowed. It seemed to take an age for the wheel to come to a halt and a mass exhalation greeted the arrival of the ball as it settled into slot number 10. Black 10.

  Eleanor caught Barbara’s muttered expletive and watched as the losing chips were skilfully raked away. Then the croupier counted out a stack of chips and pushed them to Eleanor.

  “Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen. Place your bets.”

  As Eleanor picked up her winnings, she glanced across the table. Barbara Lancashire’s eyes were like chips of ice. She almost snarled.

  “Well done, your ladyship. I haven’t seen you in here before.”

  “Yes.” Eleanor gave a gay laugh. “Entirely beginner’s luck. Now I’m away to my bed before I give it all back to them. Goodnight!”

  With Danvers at her elbow, she re-entered the main room and headed for the cash desk.

  “How much did you bet?”

  “Oh, all of it.” Eleanor threw him a t
easing smile.

  “And that was?”

  There was no earthly reason why she should tell him, but he’d had enough decency to stand back when she had bought her chips and thus had no idea how much she’d paid out for them. If her memory of odds and payouts from that one occasion in Paris was not at fault, then the evening had proved worthwhile in more ways than one. She could, at least, let him share in the excitement of the moment.

  “A hundred.”

  His eyebrows rose and he gave a low whistle. “Have you any idea how much you won?”

  “Yes.” By Eleanor's reckoning she was the richer by three thousand and six hundred pounds, and she had her original stake back, too.

  “With your luck, I’d love to take you to Monte Carlo.”

  “But not tonight, though you can take me home.”

  Their taxi pulled up on the opposite side of the road to Bellevue Mansions. Telling the driver to wait, Danvers got out with her.

  “Thank you for an enjoyable evening, Danny.”

  “Ach, you’re welcome, though going out with you could make a man turn to drink — and thanks for the excellent claret, then whisky — though it would be a shame if he did.” He touched her blonde hair, stroking the back of her head. “He’d miss so much that was fascinating, intriguing, and beautiful.”

  He pulled her to him and kissed her.

  Eleanor neither struggled nor resisted, but kissed him just as firmly back, her arms going around his waist, holding the embrace.

  She was breathless when they broke apart, but pushed him gently away. Always leave them wanting more was her maxim.

  Besides, she had every intention of seeing him again, and the night had served it’s purpose.

  With a light heart she crossed the road and climbed the steps. It was only by the merest chance, as she turned to call good night, that she caught sight of the lurker in the shadows. She shivered and hurried inside.

  Chapter 20

  The following morning brought a note from Ariadne Beresford with a list of her mother’s guests on the night her emerald necklace had disappeared.

  As expected, there were a number of guests who had also attended Barbara Lancashire’s soirée. In the normal run of things, Eleanor would have put this down to coincidence, but one name attracted her particular attention.

  She tapped the paper against her lips and shook her head. “I’m making mountains out of molehills and bricks without straw. Besides, jewel robberies can’t have anything to do with Sir David’s murder. Can they?”

  It was strange how so little information regarding the robberies had leaked into the public domain. If Tommy and Sophie’s guests were to be believed, then London was currently undergoing a spate of such thefts, yet Eleanor could not recall seeing anything of them in either the Times or the Daily Banner. Perhaps the unlucky owners had not reported their loss to the police, or the latter were keeping it quiet, for reasons best known to themselves.

  Eleanor heaved a sigh. The answer would not be found sitting at Bellevue Mansions. It was time to do a disappearing act.

  And obtain reinforcements.

  In order not to be seen by the watcher out the front, she told Tilly she was going out and left the building by the rear door. Collecting the Lagonda, she drove first to see Ann.

  “Where are we going?” Lady Ann drained her coffee cup and stared bleary-eyed at her friend. “You know I’m not a morning person.”

  “I thought we’d take a trip to the theatre.”

  “At this time in the morning? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “We are going to the Viceroy, but not to see a performance. The booking office will be open, so we can get in. Then, we are going to sit and think and wander around the circle.”

  “Wandering around in circles is about all my brain is good for.” Ann poured more coffee. “Whatever do we need to go to the theatre for?” She gave Eleanor a keen look. “Are we sleuthing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so? If there’s any sleuthing to be done, then I’m your girl.” The coffee cup rattled onto the saucer. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be with you.”

  It was nearer to half an hour before the Lagonda pulled away from outside Ann’s front door, and Eleanor drove them to the West End.

  Ann prattled for most of the way, wanting to know whether they were likely to see Deanna Dacre and what progress Eleanor was making in solving Sir David Bristol’s murder.

  “Oh, I doubt we’ll see Miss Dacre. She won’t be at the theatre this early. It’s not as if they are rehearsing or anything. As to Bristol...well, I have a few ideas, most of them outlandish, and I’ll admit that I’m baffled. It’s been nearly a week and I don’t even have a motive.” Eleanor stamped a gloved fist on the steering wheel.

  “Buck up, old chum. You’re doing no worse than the police, by the looks of things. I keep reading the paper, expecting to see news of an arrest, and that our old friend Blount of Scotland Yard has been busy and laid the culprit by the heels. There’s been nothing. Bristol’s murder hasn’t even been mentioned for a day or two.”

  Eleanor shrugged, concentrating on her driving. “Yes, a three-day wonder, but then, these jewel robberies haven’t been mentioned at all. Have you heard of any more?”

  “Well, only hearsay, but apparently even Mrs Henderson has reported stolen jewels.”

  “Mrs Henderson?”

  “Yes, wife of Arthur Henderson, the Home Secretary. Whoa!” Ann hung onto her seat as the car swerved violently, then flung an arm wide to grab hold of Eleanor. “Steady on. Are you all right?”

  “Sorry, yes. I didn’t see that coming.”

  Ann twisted in her seat and looked back the way they had come. “What coming? I didn’t see anything?”

  The car’s pace slackened as a grin spread across Eleanor’s features. “Is Ariadne Beresford’s father in the government or the Civil Service?”

  “Hmm? Yes, yes I believe he is, now that you come to mention it. So what?”

  “So, that’s my link. Ooh, Ann, I could kiss you.”

  Panic rushed into Ann’s eyes and she leaned against the door. “I’d really rather you didn’t, darling, and certainly not at the moment. Just keep your mind on driving, all right?”

  Eleanor laughed. “All right. It isn’t far now, anyway. The Viceroy is just around the corner.”

  Inside the theatre’s lobby, an elderly couple stood at the window of the booking office, enquiring after tickets for that evening’s performance. Eleanor walked past them and tapped on the manager’s door. It opened almost immediately and a dark head looked out.

  “Yes?”

  It took a moment for him to recognise Eleanor and his reaction was one of worry not welcome. She held out her card.

  “I see that you remember me. I have been retained by Miss Deanna Dacre to investigate the tragic events of last week. With your permission” — she dipped her head — “I would like to have a look at the boxes that both Sir David, and my friend and I occupied at that time.”

  “But why?” he objected. “There is nothing to see. Besides, once the police had finished with it, Sir David’s box has been sold every night to other theatre-goers.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it has, but there is something I need to check on. We won’t be long.”

  “Oh, very well, though I think you are wasting your time. I’ll put the house lights on. Let me know when you have finished, please. I don’t want them burning all day. We pay enough for electricity as it is.”

  He closed the door and Ann, much as she had done the previous week, slipped her arm through her friends as they headed for the stairs.

  “Bit of a surly character, isn’t he?” she remarked.

  “Perhaps. I wonder what Bristol’s murder has done for ticket sales.”

  “Normally, I would have said that they'd have gone through the roof —”

  “Cynic!”

  “— but I think they were doing that anyway. People have flocked to see Deanna Dacre a
cting her socks off. She's all the rage, and anyone who's anyone wants to see her.”

  Eleanor pushed open the doors at the top of the stairs and led the way into the lower circle.

  “So, what do we do now we’re here?” asked Ann.

  Reaching into her bag, Eleanor took out a notebook, a pen, and a small stopwatch. “I want to time how long it would take someone to reach Sir David’s box.”

  Ann looked appalled. “From where? If you intend tramping all over this place, then you needn’t include me. I shall go for a snooze in the box that we had.”

  “Don’t worry, lazybones.” Eleanor smiled. “We are only going to walk half of the circle. It helps that Bristol was in the centre box, so the time would be the same from either end.”

  “You go. I’ll stay here and wait for you.”

  Eleanor shook her head. “Honestly. All these parties have made you soft. All right, go into our box and I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

  She turned her back on her friend, who was soon lost to view by the curve of the circle, and strode off to the left.

  Ann was sitting in the front row of the box looking out over the empty auditorium and the curtained stage when Eleanor returned.

  “Did that tell you anything?”

  “I don’t know. I walked it in both directions, just to be sure there were no impediments, but the time itself doesn’t tell me very much.”

  “Yeah, the killer could have run. Or dawdled. Or come down from the upper circle. So, what was the point?”

  Eleanor took the seat beside her friend and pulled at lower lip with thumb and forefinger.

  “I’m just to trying to cover all the angles. We know that Bristol died only a few minutes before the end of the second act, when everyone, save for the killer, was in their seats.”

  “Not necessarily.” Ann wagged a finger. “People might have been heading for the restrooms or the bar, to get their drinks in early for the interval. There might have been any number of people around at that time.”

  “Well, that’s possible, of course, but don’t forget that Deanna was giving it her all on the stage at the time. We were all spellbound by her performance. It would have had to be a real emergency to have dragged anyone away before the curtain fell.”